A lovely Mayapple flower hides in the shade of its umbrella leaves. Later a fruit will form that is supposedly edible, although I have never tasted it.
A little further down the road we came to another pretty place--a little creek bordered by wildflowers. Here the Bluets (also called Quaker Ladies by some) are barely visible as a blue haze along the creek's bank (see this poem about them),
while Golden Ragwort makes itself at home on a large rock in the stream. Have you ever smelled the leaves of this wildflower? They are highly perfumed, with a fruity-flowery scent. I used to have a plant in my garden just so I could nip a bit of the leaves every now and then.
A strange apparition--the Dancing Outlaw, perhaps?-- appears on the swinging bridge.
A small round tuft of moss, arched with a twig, looks like a soft green basket,
and water sluicing over rocks made music that was perfect for the time and place.